Tim Eh: Spurs Can No Longer Stop Suns or Duncan's Diminution

With one flick of his wrists and in one motion, Jason Richardson buried the Spurs.

With a hand in his face and three seconds left on the shot clock, he pulled up from the right wing and saved a broken play with the dagger triple.

Steve Nash bled again, but the Spurs were the ones in need of an elusive bandaid.

The Phoenix Suns shot as well as a team with human beings can, maybe better. At times, they drilled jumpshots with robotic accuracy.

Championships are rarely won this way, and that applies to both sides. The Suns won't be as unconscious against the defending champion L.A. Lakers.

The Spurs, despite their vehement protestations, did make things tough on the Suns.

Their effort might have been good enough to beat a few other squads. Not piping hot Phoenix.

The sharpshooting team from the desert burned its South Texas tormentors with a 107-101 victory.

Get out your brooms. For just the second time in the Tim Duncan era, the Spurs could not win a game in a playoff series.

They didn't lose by 29, as they did to the L.A. Lakers in 2001, but it still hurt. The pain will not subside for at least a few days, maybe weeks.

This strange postseason unfolded the way it did for a reason. The seventh-seeded Spurs showed championship-caliber fight in ousting the second-seeded Dallas Mavericks.

R.C. Buford and Gregg Popovich needed to see their expensive roster grind, bang, and execute as it once did.

The San Antonio brass also needed the harsh lesson a second-round sweep now provides.

The elephant in the room just lost bladder control and threatens to stomp through the house until the foundation fails.

Does it stink in here, or is that just the Spurs' free-throw shooting?

The box score said "16 turnovers." Given that they bricked nine free throws and missed countless layups, that number was closer to 30.

The Spurs can no longer hide from the truth. It stares at them now like a stalker dressed in a bright orange jumpsuit covered with flashing neon lights.

It hits them now like a grand piano dropped from the top of the Empire State Building.

Bam!

The Spurs aren't the same because Duncan isn't.

In 2005, 2007, and 2008, when San Antonio owned this matchup, Popovich could count on Duncan for 40-plus minutes and 30 points on a given night.

He could miss half of his freebies and still tyrannize opponents.

Steve Nash said this in a post-game presser after a Game Three loss in the 2005 series.

"Tim just puts so much pressure on our defense in every situation," Nash said. "Just by being on the court, everyone is leaning towards him. The other players are terrific players too, and when you are constantly leaning towards Tim, he can destroy a team. That's why they are a team that's won two championships, and that's why we are down 3-0."

Duncan had 33 points and 15 rebounds that night and many still called him "one of the best players in the world."

His best, now, doesn't guarantee a victory. With his season on the line Sunday night, he stepped up to the foul line and hoisted his free throws with zero hardihood.

One attempt should have been an airball.

Twice in the second half, he missed chip shots that even two years ago were automatic.

He fumbled catchable passes that could have become gimme dunks.

Instead, Father Time was the one who said "gimme."

This isn't just about age. His workload matters, too. Popovich managed to limit Duncan's regular-season minutes.

The 31 he averaged ranks as a career-low. In the postseason, though, he was forced to play in the high 30s and low 40s.

Duncan may still have two years of All-Star basketball left in him. He can still be great on select nights, but he can't be everything.